Please
by Kenta Divina
Summary: AM oneshot planned so far. Training in the dojo turns into a breakthrough. My little tribute to the Shinobi Love group. There's a picture there that sparked this idea.


Author's Note: Just a stress breaker - and a lament for the lack of romance in my life

Author's Note: Just a stress breaker - and a lament for the lack of romance in my life.

Silence, stillness of a winter lake, that was all she felt. In that stillness, the wooden ridges beneath her feet grounded her body while her mind vanished into a world of nothingness. Alone in the room, eyes closed, breathing regulated, she began to move and sending a single ripple moving across the lake's surface as a foot slid back and planted firmly behind her. Hands slowly rose, pushing through the air. Wrists held steady, fingers controlled, they stopped at a precise moment parallel to her chest. Her weight slowly shifted to her right foot, left ankle turning square to its partner. As she turned, the left hand slipped down in an invisible block while the other rose above her head.

The water flowed, unseen currents pushing, moving. Eyes closed, she moved with it. A cool breeze swept teasingly through her hair coxing a slight smile from her lips but did not disturb the stillness. Raising her left foot, she drew her knee up and extended it in a slow action kick. Pausing, balanced and unmoving, she took a deep breath before slowly letting it out while settling back on both feet. Hands returned to their resting guard in front before drawing back to rest on each hip.

Taking one step forward, she threw herself into a front flip, keeping both hands off of the floor. When her toes touched the wood she moved straight into another flip, this time planting her palms on the ground and halting her motion in a handstand. Taking a deep breath, she slowly arched her back to tap her feet against the back of her head. Her arms trembled under the strain, but she held the pose for a count of thirty. Unbending, she tested her arms again by launching herself upright with a vertical push-up. Panting, she paused and opened her eyes.

Rolling her shoulders, she shifted her stance and pictured an invisible opponent in front of her. Shadow punching to the face and torso, adding in a kick, she slowly fell into a rhythm.

Punch, punch, block, kick, block... Turn... Repeat...

Hands settled on her hips, gently shifting her stance. With a moment of hesitation, she accepted the change, her flow slightly altered but smooth. On her next punch sequence, there was a slight push down on her fist.

"Slower."

The word was low, melting into her stillness. Each movement slipped into a dance instead of an attack. With every step he moved with her, shadowing her body with his own. Whether he was leading, or she was following did not matter - they were one unit.

He changed the routine - his arms moved out in front of him, half-encircling her. His left hand shifted to sweep in front of them both and rest just against her ribs. Their right hands extended out, palms up, while his thighs pressed against the backs of her own. The sudden intimate contact made her falter for the first time. He caught her, hand pressed against her stomach. They both stopped.

"Misao."

It was barely a whisper in her hair but it sent a jolt through her. Pulling away, she turned to face him. Standing in an old uniform he watched her, face blank.

"Aoshi-sama... what is this?"

"Practice."

She searched his gaze, looking for anything other than the blue-green ice. A winter of questions buried in pain was all she could see at first, but something struggled behind the crystal. She could feel the fight and answered.

His eyes widened just a fraction when she lashed out with her left foot. He caught it with the back of one forearm and reached out with the other to push her away. She latched onto his outstretched hand, using her lighter weight to an advantage and levered herself up to plant her right foot in the center of his chest. Kicking off of him, she flipped backwards and landed in a crouch, pulling him with her downwards. His other hand impacted her shoulder, knocking her flat on her back. They paused, Aoshi hovering over her with one hand next to her head, the other on her shoulder, and one knee against her hip. The ice was cracking.

Carefully she reached up to touch his face, smoothing over the sharp crease between his brows, down to his jaw line, then to trace his throat. The hand on her shoulder began to slip.

She searched his eyes again and this time saw the guilty longing. She wanted to rise to meet him, but he kept her pinned to the wooden floor. Flushing at her nerve, she began pulling at the collar of his uniform. He still would not yield.

"Aoshi-sama, please stop fighting me."

Both knees settled against her sides.

"Please stop fighting yourself."

She wound her left hand up and around his neck and whispered into his ear, "Please..."

Disappointment writhed in her chest as he reached up to unwrap her hold. He gently pressed her hand down to the floor just above her head before leaning down and enveloping her mouth with his own. Squeaking in surprise, she instinctively resisted for a moment before giving way to his starving caress. He pressed down, giving her the impression of wanting to merge their bodies into the floor, making her moan in her throat. Her free hand clenched the back of his uniform when he finally pulled his lips from her own and began wandering down past her ear. A hot tongue swept along the muscle of her neck making her turn her head away with hum.

"Aoshi..."

He buried his nose in the hair behind her ear. Pushing away the warm haze of pleasure he had covered her with, she tried to look him in the eye.

"Aoshi, if we're..." she swallowed. "If we're going to continue with this, shouldn't we move out of the dojo?"

He finally lifted his head off of her shoulder. She blinked and felt her face warm at the heat in his gaze.

"Yes."


End file.
